


A Night Wrapped Tight

by Anonymous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Hand Jobs, Hypnotism, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Non-Consensual Bondage, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 15:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18472225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Louis is a witch and Harry is the human he's claimed.He thinks at first that there’s something wrong with his vision, like when he stands up too fast and little spots appear, but these stars are pinkish, and as more appear before him they form a swirl, rotating around one another in uniform. He can still see the room around him, but it’s the focus of his line of sight.





	A Night Wrapped Tight

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those "not for everyone" works. If you think of any tags I need to add, let me know.
> 
> Part 1 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15623517)  
> Part 2 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629091)  
> Part 3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401295)
> 
> Really hope you're not disappointed, Lola!

Harry isn’t really sure when he becomes conscious. This time it feels like coming out of a deep sleep, and he’s disoriented, groggy. 

He recognizes Louis’ living room, but it’s dark, all the lights are off and the sun seems to be mostly set from the last of the orangish light coming through the windows. 

He blinks, sluggishly. His body feels heavy, and he finally realises that a leather collar sits around his neck.  _ The _ leather collar - the one Louis puts on him that allows him to control all of Harry’s movements. 

Something in Harry relaxes at that. He shouldn’t feel relaxed knowing he’s under the full control of someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, but… It’s Louis. And he knows for a fact how entirely powerless he is in Louis’ hands, so there’s no need to struggle, at least not while wearing the collar. He can’t escape  _ magic, _ after all. 

More details come into focus around him. For instance, the fact that he’s wearing absolutely nothing becomes abundantly clear, and a blush creeps up his neck to his cheeks. He really  _ would _ rather be wearing pants at least. 

The next thing he realises is that there is a pair of thighs clad in tight black skinnies bracketing his own - Harry’s sitting forward, on the edge of the couch, and someone whom he presumes to be Louis is sitting behind him, one hand resting low on his hip. 

His hearing tunes in last, and Harry confirms that it’s definitely Louis, who has one hand on his hip and the other ghosting across his neck, touching the collar and then tickling across his shoulders. “I’ve got something good for you,” Louis says, his voice low and slow like a brushed glaze. “I’ve practiced it all week to make sure I’ve got the spell perfect. Just for you, my darling.”

Harry shivers at his light touch. He listens to Louis as his voice changes pitch, speaking words that aren’t in a language Harry’s ever heard before. 

Then, the ghost of a kiss is pressed into his shoulder, and Harry sees stars. 

He thinks at first that there’s something wrong with his vision, like when he stands up too fast and little spots appear, but these stars are pinkish, and as more appear before him they form a swirl, rotating around one another in uniform. He can still see the room around him, but it’s the focus of his line of sight.

Harry blinks a few times. There’s something about the swirl that makes him feel… unfocused. Heady. It takes him a few minutes to catch up to the fact that Louis has unbuckled and removed the collar from around his neck. 

When he does, he tries to turn around, craning his neck to see Louis. “Lou-”

“Shhhh,” Louis says, his voice dripping like honey. “You don’t need to speak right now. You can’t, anyway, with how thick and heavy your tongue is.”

Whatever Harry was meaning to say dies in his mouth. He frowns, blinking slowly as the swirls continue to slowly circle in his vision. His tongue  _ is _ heavy and thick in his mouth. He couldn’t get out words if he tried. He closes his mouth and hums, confused, pathetic.

“That’s alright,” Louis says, running a hand through Harry’s hair, sweeping it back from his face. “You don’t have to speak, I do enough for the both of us.”

A thought flits through Harry’s mind. Something about how Louis  _ always _ does all the talking, doesn’t he? But it’s lost in the swirls and stars in his eyes.

Louis’ hands have left his hair and Harry feels him grasp onto his arms. His fingers dig into the meat of his biceps, surely hard enough to bruise, and it doesn’t even occur to Harry to resist as Louis pulls his left arm backward and folds it behind him. 

“You don’t really need to use your arms either,” Louis says, voice slow and strong. “Won’t bother you a bit if I just tie this arm down back across here, will it?”

Harry gives a tug at his right arm. Louis’ folded it behind his back so that his hand is at his left elbow. It doesn’t move, securely held in place.

Louis pulls his left arm back as well. “My good boy, you don’t have need of either of your arms right now, do you? Of course you don’t, not with me here to take care of you.” Harry feels as Louis lines up his hands with the opposite elbows. “I’m just going to make sure you’re nice and secure.”

Harry tests his new bonds, pulling at his arms, now trapped firmly behind him. 

“That’s it,” Louis praises, placing his hand back on Harry’s bare hip. “You know that you belong to me, and you can only do as I tell you.”

A shuddery breath escapes Harry as Louis pulls him back until he’s leaning against his chest, his arms trapped between them. 

“You’re mine,” Louis says, reaching down and grasping Harry’s cock. Harry gasps, squirming against him.

“You will  _ always _ be mine,” Louis says, stroking him to hardness. “You belong to me, and tonight, my will is your desire.” 

Harry whines, feeling both the way Louis is teasing at the underside of the head of his cock, as well as how Louis’ grown hard himself, pressing into Harry’s ass and moving with him whenever he thrusts into Louis’ grip. 

Louis leans forward, his hand stilling over Harry’s cock as his other one ghosts over his nipple. “You cannot come yet,” he says, voice low. 

Harry’s whines turn to a moan as Louis pushes him forward, strong and steady as he manhandles him onto the footrest in front of the couch, so that he’s lying on his front across the plush material. The stars in his eyes continue to swirl, and the phrase repeats in his mind.  _ You cannot come. _ His aching cock is trapped between his stomach and the footrest as he tries his best to thrust into it, give himself the relief he desires, but to no avail.

“Try all you want,” Louis says from behind him, voice strong. “But we both know you’re only able to do as I tell you tonight, Darling.”

Do they both know that? Harry tries to think. He tries, but the swirls in his eyes, even as he now faces the hardwood floor below him, make everything cloudy. He feels sort of floaty and sort of not all there and  _ really _ like he needs to come. He thrusts up against the material of the ottoman again and moans in frustration. 

Suddenly he can feel Louis grabbing onto his leg, lifting it so that his ankle meets his thigh. “I’m going to make sure you’re secure,” he says, and Harry can feel his hand twisting something around his ankle. “You don’t need to go anywhere anyway, I’m here for everything you need.” 

When he lets go, Harry can’t unbend his leg. 

Louis does the same to his other leg, saying honey sweet things about keeping him and restraining him properly, and when he’s done Harry finds himself suspended on the ottoman, arms held tight behind his back and legs tied together so that his knees can’t even touch the floor. He moans, writhing in his restraints and looking at swirling stars and wishing that Louis would at  _ least _ keep touching him. 

What Louis does instead is leave the room. 

When he comes back, Harry feels a finger press at his entrance and jumps, then moans at the friction that puts on his cock. 

“So pretty,” Louis says. “All splayed and open for me, tied up like a present.” Harry feels him open him up, and then gasps as his finger is replaced with something much bigger, lubed up ridged. 

As Louis pushes the toy into him, Harry moans into the material of the ottoman, knowing that his drool is pooling on the material, but with his tongue not cooperating there isn’t much he can do. 

He can feel the base when it’s completely inserted, flush against his skin. He feels full and jumps whenever Louis presses against it, and although he probably shouldn’t be by now, he’s caught off guard when it springs to life, vibrating against his prostate and sending shocks through his system that have him uselessly twisting and humping against the footstool he’s suspended on. 

But Louis make sure he can’t come, and even with every nerve alight in his body, all he can do is moan and writhe, just on the edge of pleasure. 

“Oh Harry,” Louis says, gripping his hips firm enough to leave bruises. “My beautiful mate, there is nothing I love more than seeing you fall apart for me. Even when the bindings are all in your own mind.”

Harry can feel when Louis’ own cock, apparently freed from his clothes, slides up against Harry’s cheeks. He feels Louis thrusting up against him, using the friction between Harry’s body and Louis’ stomach. He feels the way Louis’ thrusts take their time, even as Harry already feels like he’s been taken apart, until his hip movements speed up, becoming messy and uneven, and then he feels the way Louis leans forward, covering Harry’s body with his own, and leaves a kiss behind Harry’s ear before whispering,

“Come for me, Harry.”

And he feels the way they both fall apart. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15623517)  
> Part 2 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629091)  
> Part 3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401295)


End file.
